Cullo

...means "red gold" in a poetic sense, in Quenya.

Out of the closet, out of the wardrobe. I've got two sweethearts and I'm very happy about that. I'm very sad about fox. And there's nothing strange in these conflicting emotions.

I feel so incredibly free and relieved when I paint. This is what I want to do, I think as I "wake up" after another session, to another painting staring back at me from the easel.

Open to the world, and I'll deal with people's reactions as I go along. One of those whose reactions means the most to me, held me tight, and squeed in delight, as did another, far more distand friend.

Maybe one day I'll tell the story of how ten years went by, one by one, until the day came, that suddenly, carefully, gently, gave the opportunity of saying to this person, in front of everyone, "I love you" and have that person say it back. It's unfair to say we've waited... but the time has passed. Then is then and now is now and it's they way it is. This will have to suffice, I think; that small step by small step, we are finally allowing ourselves to get to know eachother as something other than friends. I'm very happy, but incredibly anxious about it. A bit apprehensive. But mostly stunned and happy.

Sorry, now. Got to go and hug the sweetheart that happens to be resting on top of the bed after a cup of tea and reading "Tigana".